


Born to Lead

by LinguistLove_24



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Babysitting, F/F, Family Fluff, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 04:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinguistLove_24/pseuds/LinguistLove_24
Summary: "Some girls really were born to lead. Something told her the little one in close proximity to herself would be one of them."Future fiction.





	Born to Lead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RacingHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RacingHeart/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cookies and Tea Parties](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635294) by [RacingHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RacingHeart/pseuds/RacingHeart). 



> Set five years into the future. 
> 
> 100% fiction
> 
> Came to me after I finished rereading RacingHeart's little one shot 'Cookies and Tea Parties' and I decided I needed a little fluff in my life.
> 
> So this one's for you! ;)

**Born to Lead**

 

“Shit.” 

 

Situated in the back seat of a vehicle designated by agents to transport her from point A to point B, Hillary silently cursed herself, spread her feet inches apart before reaching an arm downward and attempting to fish her loudly ringing phone out from where it had disappeared under the seat.

 

“Do you need me to stop, ma'am?” the long time agent asked her kindly. “'Cause I will.” 

 

She gazed past the lowered partition separating them and up into the direction of his visor mirror, locking eyes. Tips of porcelain fingers still grazing the thin carpeting of the floor, she smiled. “Nah, it's fine, I've almost got it.” 

 

He nodded his understanding before seeing her finally connect with the device, slide it out from under her and pick it up. Assuming she'd appreciate privacy, he flicked the button to raise the divider, and she came face to face with pitch black. 

 

“Hello?” Hillary answered, slightly flustered as she finally pressed the button to accept the incoming call. 

 

“Mum. God, I thought I'd never get you, what's going on?”

 

Chelsea. 

 

Picking up on the worry in her daughter's voice, Hillary felt her heart constrict and chuckled softly. 

 

“Nothing, love. I'm fine. My phone was on silent earlier and when I finally set it back to normal, I dropped it under the back seat of the car.”

 

“Oh,” Chelsea sighed, relieved. “Okay. Where are you? Are you busy?”

 

“Nope, just on my way home. Was shopping. Why? Do you need something?” 

 

“Would it be at all possible for you to pick up Charlotte from school? Marc got tied up with something and I'm stuck in a meeting. I've just stepped out for a second to see if I could get hold of someone. I asked Dad first, but he has a flight to catch in less than an hour. You won't have to keep her overnight, one of us can pick her up later.”

 

“Sure honey, I'd be happy to. I'll keep her if you want, I've nothing on for tomorrow.” 

 

“Gosh, thank you Mum. You're a lifesaver. I've gotta go. Text me if you need anything.”

 

“I will do baby, love you.”

 

“Ditto.”

 

Disconnecting and returning her phone to the bottom of her purse, Hillary rapped lightly on the screen in front of her, the agent sitting on the passenger's side slowly lowering it.

 

“Ma'am?” he intoned.

 

“I need to make a detour and pick my granddaughter up from school,” she told him, extending an apologetic look. “Sorry.” 

 

The agent waved a hand dismissively and smiled, not fazed by the change of plans in the least. “Not a problem.”

 

“Thank you,” Hillary told him kindly. “And please,” she added, eyes twinkling. “You can stop calling me ma'am. Makes me feel old.”

 

“Sorry,” the agent laughed good naturedly as his boss winked at him, blush creeping into his naturally pale cheeks. “Habit.”

 

///

 

“Grandma!” Charlotte shrieked, releasing the hand of the agent Hillary had sent to collect her and running toward her when her grandmother came into view. Curly blonde hair swayed in the chill wind as she ran, her pink Barbie backpack looking weighted down as she carried it across her shoulders. 

 

“Hi baby!” Hillary waved happily, exaggerating her excitement and kneeling to hug her once she got close enough. “How was school today?” 

 

“It was good,” Charlotte smiled. “Where's Mummy?”

 

“She and Daddy are both working, so she asked Grandma to come and get you,” Hillary explained as she stood to full height and dusted dirt marks off the knees of her trousers. “You okay with a sleepover with me tonight?” 

 

“Uh- _ huh,”  _ the child answered with emphasis, causing her grandmother's eyes to sparkle. “The teacher gave us homework though, so I might need some help.”

 

Hillary fought against the cacophonous laughter she felt rising from her abdomen, gave in when she was unable to stifle it. “I'm sure we'll figure it out, love,” she assured, extending a hand. “Come on, let's get in the car. I'll take your backpack for you.” 

 

///

 

“What did you do at school today?” Hillary asked as they drove along, she half turning in the back seat to face her granddaughter as she sat munching the unfinished half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich retrieved from her matching Barbie lunch box.

 

“Lots of things!” Charlotte told her excitedly, pausing to finish chewing. “I read my whole picture book out loud without getting any words wrong,” she smiled proudly. “The teacher gave me a star sticker.” 

 

“She did? That's awesome. I'm proud of you. What else did you do?” 

 

She thought for a moment. “Played in the sandbox at recess.”

 

“Yeah?” Hillary intoned. “Did you make a sandcastle?”

 

“Yeah, but then I saw this girl get pushed off the swings and she was crying, so I stopped making my sandcastle and asked if she was okay.”

 

“Well that was nice of you,” Hillary told her tenderly, feeling immensely proud of the kind of mother her own child had become. “Was she all right?”

 

“Uh huh,” Charlotte said. “She hurt her knee a little, but the teacher outside gave her a band aid and told the kids being mean to her to stop.”

 

“Good,” Hillary said. “It makes me happy to hear that you were kind to her and helped her when she was hurt.”

 

“Mummy says you should always be nice, even if other people aren't nice to you.” 

 

Hillary nodded, corners of her mouth lifting into a smile. “That's right.”

 

“Is Grandpa gonna be there when we get home?” Charlotte questioned after a while, having finished her sandwich and moved on to sucking orange juice from the top of a juice box. 

 

“Not tonight baby,” Hillary told her regrettably. “Grandpa's on a plane. He'll be back soon, though. I may be able to get him on FaceTime later so you can say goodnight.”

 

“Yes!” Charlotte emphasised, pumping tiny fist into the empty air. “Can we make those special cookies for him when we get to your house so he can eat 'em when he gets back?”

 

Hillary raised a brow, momentarily puzzled. “Oh, vegan cookies?” she asked her.

 

“Yeah!”

 

“I don't see why not,” Hillary approved, laughing as her affirmative response caused her granddaughter to lift from her seat in excitement. 

 

///

 

“Is the oven warm yet?” Charlotte asked impatiently from her position perched atop a footstool.

 

“Yes, actually,” Hillary answered as she turned and looked over her shoulder, seeing the desired temperature flashing neon green across the display. “I already greased the cookie sheet. We've just got to spoon the batter on there now. It's a little messy though, so roll your sleeves up. Do you want Grandma to help you?”

 

Taking kindly to instruction, Charlotte pushed the sleeve of her little black turtleneck up over an elbow on the left side, repeated the same ritual on the right. Gazing at her grandmother as though she were crazy, she carefully pulled the mixing bowl and wooden spoon closer to herself. 

 

“Uh, Grandma?” she retorted, voice inflected. “I'm  _ seven,  _ I can do it.” 

 

“Oh,” Hillary laughed, lines around her eyes crinkling as she took a pull from the glass of wine she'd situated on the opposite side of the counter. “Forgot, sorry. Be quick though, I've gotta make dinner and then help you with your homework too before bed. We've gotta get through it at a reasonable hour if you want to FaceTime with Grandpa.”

 

“Can we have cake for dinner?” Charlotte asked hopefully as she spooned globs of batter onto parchment paper. 

 

“I don't think Mummy would be very happy with me if I said yes.”

 

“I won't tell if you don't,” Charlotte answered, glancing over her shoulder and grinning wickedly, mischievous laughter rolling off her. 

 

Hillary turned her face to the side, setting her wine glass down and gripping the edge of the counter for purchase as though the action would aid her attempt to keep the liquid from spilling out of her mouth as she tried not to laugh. Composing herself, she ran porcelain hands over the creases in her blouse and stood to full height. 

 

Charlotte stood mere feet away, still laughing, little cheeks plump and red from the exertion. Even so, she still managed to place nearly perfect, rounded little balls of batter semi-neatly onto the baking sheet.

 

Hillary shook her head.

 

Some girls really were born to lead. Something told her the little one in close proximity to herself would be one of them. 

 


End file.
